


Break You Down, Build You Up

by Anonymous



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Amnesia, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gaslighting, M/M, Neglect, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Starvation, Torture, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7214545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Who's my brave little soldier?<em></em></em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break You Down, Build You Up

**Author's Note:**

> here have this garbage I finished forever ago but was literally too embarrassed to post
> 
> basically came from the frustration that tordmatt is usually characterized as super fluffy when it has the potential to be super fucked up

 "Bring him in."

 

The big grand doors swung open to reveal Paul and Patryk, with a familiar looking prisoner in tow.

 

Tord eyed him from the ledge he was standing on. He'd been crying, and he was still struggling in the two soldiers' arms, albeit meekly.

 

"So this was the one trespassing our base," the Norwegian dictator remarked as the ledge descended at the pull of a lever. "What a pleasant surprise! Do you remember me, old friend?" He crouched his shoulders a bit to get on the same level as the kneeling man.

 

"F-Face wrecker!" Matt couldn't remember the name of the one looking down on him, or even the full extent of what he had done, just that awful shiner he had blemished him with. "Don't you dare touch my face again, or else!" He meant to come off as more intimidating, but his empty threat came off as more of a whine.

 

Tord honestly had no interest in hurting Matt in such a way again, that had been a bit of an unexpected berserk button. Sometimes he liked riling up some of his prisoners, but this one was like a yapping little dog, he was just annoying when he was angry. It would be a lot more fun to break his spirit, mold him into something new.

 

How do you quiet a stray puppy barking its nose off? You ignore it. Once it's tamed you can shower it in affection, and it will follow you wherever you go.

 

"Take him into solitary. Water once a day, bread every other day."

 

"Should we probe him for information? He was on our property for a reason," Patryk questioned.

 

"For the last time, I was lost and saw something to add to my collection in your dumpster! The stuff you throw away, it's unbelievable!"

 

"He's telling the truth. He's a terrible liar," dismissed Tord. "Just take him away."

 

This would be interesting.

* * *

The first few weeks were mind-numbing. Attempts at bargaining ("I'll let you pick something from my novelty toy collection! Just not Little Tom, he's my favorite"), followed by pleading, then loud sobbing, all unheard by guards in red sweaters and blue overcoats following orders. _Pay him no mind, he'll tire out eventually._

 

Finally, the Red Leader himself opened his cell door to greet Matt, and was immediately met with angry cries.

 

"You again! What is the meaning of-"

 

  
_Slam_ , went the door. Don't reward him.

 

He tried again a few days after that. The prisoner was more benign this time, trying to charm him.

 

"Tord! I remembered your name! Could you please let me-"

 

  
_Slam_. He still needs time.

 

"P-please, I'm begging you, I don't know what you wan-"

 

  
_Slam_. Nope.

 

"I-"

 

  
_Slam_. Almost.

 

"..."

 

"Anything this time? Anything at all?" Tord tested him.

 

"..." Matt hung his head, the only sounds permeating the space were his chattering teeth. He had lost a lot of weight for insulation from the cold, and he was only slightly lean when he was first brought in. How long had it been? He had forgotten.

 

"Good. Come with me." That was the first compliment Matt had heard in forever, and it was just barely that. It felt...nice.

 

As he was essentially dragged out of the cell, that compliment was negated: "You're a filthy little thing. Do I need to bathe you? You're such a baby."

 

As the dirt caked onto his knobby joints was scrubbed off, Matt could swear he felt Tord caress his lower back.

* * *

"You know, Matt, I loove a man in uniform~"Tord gushed as he buttoned up his prisoner-turned-recruit's jacket, a tad sincere in his praise. Matt really was on his way to being crafted into his favorite plaything, he was just so easy.

 

Matt visibly lapped the attention up, but said nothing.

 

"You can speak."

 

"Really?!" The scrawny ginger's eyes lit up. "Thank you, I really am lovely, aren't I-"

 

"Shh." Tord sternly interrupted.

 

The mere tone of disappointment deflated Matt's ego, and he hushed once again.

 

"Anyhow, this is just a fitting. You've been improving, so I want to treat you to dinner with the others. Change into that blazer hanging up over there. Or do you need my help?"

* * *

 

When the doors to the dining hall opened, Matt was met with an array of attractive aromas. In front of him sat a feast of a king's proportions. Huge decorative plates of an array of vegetables, slabs of meat, fried delights. Was that a fondue pot? Bacon-flavored cola, Edd's favorite- Matt's chest tingled a bit at the reminder of his friend, whose whereabouts he had no idea of. 

 

But he hadn't eaten properly in weeks. And this was all for him! He couldn't help but dig in, ditching the various different fancy utensils for his hands.

 

Before he could make a dent however, he heard Tord, sitting adjacent to him with his napkin in his lap, scoff.

 

"What kind of pig are you? Stop stuffing your face, do you want to gain even more weight?" Tord poked Matt's abdomen, swollen from starvation, in disgust. "And here I thought you were a _gentleman_."

 

Matt's heart sunk at the disapproval. He looked around the table and discovered various Red Army soldiers surrounded him, dressed up much more formally than him and the beaten blazer he had been provided. They had not even helped themselves yet, they simply sat there dignified, staring disapprovingly at him.

 

How had he not noticed them there? Furthermore, _more_ weight?

 

"You just ate a half hour ago, you big hog!" one of the soldiers, in on the game, remarked.

 

Had he? But he could have sworn...well, his memory was terrible, everyone else was much more trustworthy. It would explain his jutting out stomach, though he wondered why it was so hard and painful to the touch. And despite that, he was _still_ hungry?! He really must be a pig.

 

A disgusting, filthy, gluttonous pig...

 

Matt felt his vision clouding up, his body shook with tremors, why was he so weak, he felt nauseous yet starving at the same time, and dizzy, dizzy, dizzy-

 

The world went black.

* * *

 

 

 

 When he woke up, Matt found himself laying in a cot shirtless, an IV plugged into his arm providing him nutrients. By his side was Tord, taking a drag from a cigar.

 

"Ah, you're awake. You're in the base's infirmary," The norski remarked. "You sure made a fool of yourself passing out at the table. Perhaps I should punish you..." He pointed the lighted end of the cigar towards Matt and leaned toward his bare skin.

 

Matt whimpered. Perhaps he deserved this...

 

Tord stopped and put out the cigar on the smooth metal of his robotic arm. "Ahaha, of course, I don't blame you."

 

"W-what?"

 

Tord sighed and wrapped his arms around Matt's shoulders from behind, eliciting a chill down his bare spine."You've been through so much...being left behind, and having to stay in that cage all alone. I know it was hard, but I had to show you how things work around here."

 

"L-left behind? But I was lost, wasn't I?" Matt protested.

 

"Oh you poor little thing, you've repressed your memories, your fragile little heart just can't handle rejection~" Tord reached around and took the taller one's head in his hands, running his fingers down freckled cheeks and lightly scraping the delicate skin with his jagged fingernails.  "Edd and Tom, they were sick of you and left you to wander the streets. You came to me on your hands and knees, you had nowhere to go! My poor little soldier..."

 

Matt...supposed that was plausible. The others sure did treat him like a burden a whole lot. Tord was never like that, even when he had punched him he was just angry and lost control, and was really apologetic after...

 

"I'm...happy to have you to work under, Tor-" Matt stopped himself. He wasn't sure if calling his superior by name was appropriate. "-Red Leader. I don't know what I did to deserve you," the ginger finally responded.

 

"Ahahaha!" Tord giggled. That same little laugh again, he's such a cheery guy. "No need to address me by title, you're one of my oldest friends! You're special, Matt, not just another soldier." He reached up and massaged the taller's scalp. Matt, heart fluttering from the attention, swooned his head towards the delicate yet direct hands like a cat.

 

"I'm...special?"

 

Tord didn't answer right away, instead opting to move and face Matt's front, keeping silent.

 

"T-Tord?"

 

"Lay down. I'll show you how special you are."

 

Matt gulped and obeyed. Tord climbed onto the cot and sat on his knees over him, and began to move his hands up Matt's torso with light caresses. The ginger tried not to squirm, feeling quite naked without a shirt.

 

Tord admired his handiwork with a smirk. Matt's formerly slightly chiseled, slim build had been transformed from neglect. Deathly skinny, with visible ribs and hipbones jutting out, skin that once glowed with color had grown pale, almost grey, and littered with stretch marks from rapid weight loss. 

 

Now he would pamper his little toy, put meat back on his bones, make him beautiful again, all while showering him with compliments, and Matt would look at him like he controlled the stars for it.

 

"Aah, so handsome," Tord fed the gullible one's ego. His hands finally found a place around Matt's throat.

 

Matt remained silent, looking up into the Norwegian's single functioning eye, taking in every sensation, heartbeat rising. The robotic hand resting on his throat was so cold...

 

Under his five working fingers, Tord could feel the sweat covering Matt's neck, his pulse quickening, his swallowing of saliva pooling at the back of his mouth. _So sensitive..._

 

Thumbs met on top of the trachea. Tord held them there for a moment...

 

Before squeezing down as hard as he could.

 

"T-Tord! Y-you're ch-choking me-" Matt tried to protest through attempted breaths, clawing at his throat. Tord didn't say a word, his face unreadable.

 

Matt's eyes widened, too out of breath to continue to attempt speech. _W-why? What did I do wrong this time?_

 

That look of shock and betrayal was so enthralling to Tord, getting him just as excited as the first time he did a turn about face to his friends. However, he continued his merciless, deadeyed facade.

 

Matt's eyes began to roll back in his head, his face turning blue. His resisting arms fell limp at his sides. 

 

And suddenly, the pressure subsided.

 

Matt gasped for breath as he regained vision, sputtering loudly. "T-Tord, what was that?!"

 

Tord's cold, expressionless face lit up with warmth. "I wanted to show that you can trust me, silly! I'm only loyal to those who are of utmost importance to me. And might I add, you turned the most lovely shade of blue."

 

Matt blinked, face still blank with fear, before his eyes lit up with a small grin. 

 

"...I looked lovely?"

 

 

 

 


End file.
